The economy’s so deep in the tanks
That starving kids in Santiago
Are offering prayers of thanks
That they weren’t born in Chicago.
Meanwhile, the Mormons of Utah
And the Amish of Pennsylvania
Are saying “we got to scoot, yah”
And moving to Albania.
Tag Archives: Bad
Now You Know Why DeerDon’t Use iPhones
There once was a buck from Melrose
Who smelled something sweet with his nose.
His friends said “That crap’ll
“Most oft be an apple.
“Forget it. Let’s go out and win does.”
Filed under Poems
Great Historical Figures Deserve Better Than This, But I Wrote It Anyway
There once was a mom from Calcutta
Who was sweeter than suga or butta.
Even she had no mercy
For those born in Jersey
So Jersey boys pray to King Tutta.
Filed under Poems
This Is Why Nobody Bought My Bond Script
Yesterday is faded;
Tomorrow will never come.
Both of these also apply
When I describe your mum.
Filed under Poems
Thursday Night Football
There once were some Illinois Bears
Who played the ex-redskins by O’hare.
They punted and punted
And punted and punted
And who the heck actually cares?
Filed under Poems
Green Power Meets Greek Power
A giant electric windmill met Sisyphus
And asked, “Do you like music, man?”
Sisyphus said, “Anything but rock and roll.”
The turbine said, “I’m a big metal fan.”
Filed under Poems
Never Ask Family For Poetic Inspiration After 9:00 P.M.
There once was box knife named “Cat Scratch”
And Brian May’s guitar named “Big Red”
And my mom said “Write about rhubarb”
And now I’m going to bed.
Filed under Poems
Based On Actual Song Lyrics
Doowop, doowop.
Doowop bebop shadooby.
Wicky-wicky, chicka-chicka,
Doowoppa scooby dooby.
Boobop, baddop,
Badoppawop pizazz!
If you think this poem’s stupid
Then you REALLY must hate jazz.
Filed under Poems
A Depends-able Workers
My boss said I’m incompetent
Because I visit the bathroom a lot.
Then I developed incontinence
And now visit that room I do not.
Filed under Poems
It’s My Birthday, So You HAVE To Like The Post
Today is the day if my birth,
When I first breathed the air of the Earth.
Because of my exodus
From my mom’s uterus
I now create poems with mirth.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 